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wants to train as a fighter pilot. Anyway, he asked if he could write to me and would I write back. I felt very flattered – he’s awfully handsome – and I liked him too, so I said that I would. I wonder when I’ll hear from him. I’ve been here nearly two weeks now and not a squeak from him. I’m beginning to think he’s forgotten me already.

Friday 15 September
     
     
    I had a bit of a grumble to Molly about Sister today and . . . and . . . well, about everything . Like all the silly rules, that clicking of heels, and that to-do about how the patients lay in bed when the Colonel did his inspection. It seemed all wrong to me. “Their comfort should come first,” I said to Molly vehemently.
    And lastly, I aired my favourite grumble – when when when would I get the chance to do some proper nursing?
    “When I can trust you, Nurse Langley,” I thought I heard someone say. A moment later I saw Sister sail past us. Was that her voice in my ear, or just a tiny voice inside my head? It’s been puzzling me all afternoon, and I just don’t know the answer.

Monday 18 September
     
     
    I got my first-ever letter from Giles today. I was so pleased when I saw it waiting for me – raced off straightaway to read it – but now I just feel miserable.
    It was all about the planes he’s learning to fly – lots of technical stuff that’s too boring to write here. It wasn’t what I’d been expecting at all. Then at the end he wrote: “Ripping that you said you’d write to me. Please write back – soon.” He sounded a bit lonely – and suddenly I felt sorry for him. But I don’t want to feel sorry for him – not if he’s to be my boyfriend. Oh bother, I don’t know what I feel – or what he feels about me! I wish there was someone I could talk to about Giles – someone who really knows him.
    I’d been so looking forward to hearing from him. And I know I must write back soon, but now I just don’t know what to say to him.

Monday 25 September
     
     
    Weekly gas drill this morning. For half an hour we had to do the chores with our gas masks and tin hats on. I always want to giggle when I see Sister Rook in hers – today I did, and then my mask misted up and I tripped up over Private Baker’s boots. I made a grab for the bedpost and righted myself just in time. Luckily Sister didn’t notice, or I’d have been in trouble again.
    It’s a week now since I had my letter from Giles but I only sat down to answer it today. My first attempt was awfully stilted – all about my work on the wards. It was quite as dull as his. So I tried again. I told myself to forget the awfully unsatisfactory letter I’d got from him and just think about the boy I’d met and how much I’d liked him. That made it much easier and I got on swimmingly. I feel a lot happier now. What does one silly letter matter anyway?

Wednesday 27 September
     
     
    This evening I saw a bunch of VADs clustered round the notice board in the mess. I couldn’t get close enough to see what the fuss was all about, but Molly saw me and called me over.
    “We’ve been asked to a regimental dance,” she said excitedly, waving a finger at the board.
    I’m thrilled! I’ve never been to a regimental dance before! Bunty’s already planning to go into town first to get her hair done. I don’t know how she thinks she’ll find the time. Marjorie’s going round with a long face. Poor Marjorie. She’s just started on night duty and so will miss all the fun.

Friday 29 September
     
     
    Molly and I are so envious of Nurse Mason! She’s won Sister’s trust – the first of us three to do so. So now she’s being allowed to take the patients’ temperature, pulse and respiration – a very responsible job. (Doing the TPRs we call this.) And it’s all thanks to Molly’s infected hand.
    We were in the annexe today, putting away the cleaning things, when I heard Nurse Mason exclaim: “Nurse Smythe – your hand!” She sounded really shocked. Molly